


Whatever Happened To the Teenage Dream?

by crychan



Series: Lance Buried Alive AU [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abandoment Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Langst, M/M, Nightmares, Trauma, keith is so supportive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 03:35:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8473882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crychan/pseuds/crychan
Summary: Lance is slowly recovering, and when he slips up, Keith is always there for him.More or less.





	

**Author's Note:**

> lOL FUK I CALL THIS ONE THE "SPENT 5 HOURS WRITING IT AND DONT BETAAA OR CHECK FOR CONSISTENCY"
> 
> its 11:30 pm on friday i thought of this at like 2 and started writing at 6
> 
> i cant believe maychorian read my fic tho sjkfkdkd  
> boom crash is my favourite fic ever please read it it will warm your soul
> 
> just a oneshot with no plot

_A flash of lightning flared to life beyond the daunting figure above. A crack of thunder erupted from the sky and into his ears. Fear had a cold grip on his heart._

_The sounds. The pitter patter of rain plit-plit-ing onto the splitting plywood. The slight pant in that man's breath from the physical exertion. The taste. Copper filling his mouth as he bites down on his tongue to stop himself from screaming. The rain moisturizing his chapped lips that have been abusively chewed down._

_Lance's hands were empty. No impromptu glow-stick weapon. Just the empty air and sweat on his palms._

_What really wretched the hope from Lance's heart was the sight before him. This man looming above him with a menacing grip on the red fire axe glinting in the moonlight. He hefted it high in the air. Struck it down. Right between his eyes._

 

Lance shrieked. A high-pitched scream ripped from his throat as he rocketed upwards in his bed. Blood roared in his ears as he tried to calm his ragged breathing. His felt was pulsing and his fingers felt like they were vibrating. He reached for Keith, to jostle him awake so it wouldn't be so quiet anymore, even if he did play quiet music throughout the night. But the bed was cold. Gone. Keith was gone.

His hands found his shoulders and gripped them tightly, eventually just holding his shirt at the shoulders and dragging it down. He kept swivelling his head back and forth, all around, a constant feeling of something always just right behind him. The house was eerily quiet, not even a board creaking. His mind was couldn't seem to take any new information, it was stuck like a broken record, only repeating _Keith's gone Keith's gone Keith's gone Keith's gone._

He tried to convince himself that Keith wouldn't leave Lance without a reason. No, no, no, he wouldn't just _leave_. Where would he have gone? Did he go to the bathroom, or get a phone call, or need a drink? He wanted to call out for him but he couldn't seem to make himself speak. His throat felt like a rock was jammed in the middle of it.

He glanced at the clock, making out some ridiculous hour to be awake at. Some sleazy bed track was playing faintly. The room felt too small without Keith. He bolted from the bedroom, he felt an all-encompassing pressure around his head and his vision blackened. He tried to call for Keith, but his throat burned too much to keep trying after a while. Lance heard no reply. Was he not even in the house? Lance kept going, aiming for the front door. His vision eventually cleared. He yanked the patio door open and ran to the driveway. The gravel and rocks painfully dug into his feet as he stumbled and tripped over himself to get there faster.

The car was still there.

He whipped his head around.

Keith wasn't outside.

 

He could be just on a walk, his brain tried to rationalize. But that was rather ridiculous at such a late hour. The outdoors should have been the most freeing place for Lance, but without anybody around, it just felt like a straitjacket. Lance felt ready to break down, eyes brimmed with unshed tears. His nightmare forgotten, this painful loneliness weighing him down. Not a soul in sight. He felt his throat close up and covered his mouth with his hands to stop any noise from escaping, even though nobody was around. He crunched forward, one hand on his queasy stomach, the other on his mouth, shoulders hunched up. A whimper slipped out of his lips. The tears finally overflowed, sliding down his cheeks and mixing with the rain-- when did it start raining?-- as he shakily exhaled through the space between his fingers.

What was he supposed to do? His legs seemed to have given up on their purpose and gave out. Lance sunk to the pavement. His hands finally dropped from his mouth as he let out a broken wail. Snot ran down his nose and his mouth tasted salty. His fingers dug into the ground as Lance let out another mournful bellow.

He wanted Keith. Keith fixed everything. He was a constant in Lance's ever changing life. Lance continued to moan and sob, his chest felt tight and he felt chilled to the bone.

Lance eventually drew quiet, still crying, but quietly snivelling as he tired himself out. " _Keith..._ " He managed to choke out. And so he appeared, as if he actually heard Lance's quiet call.

  
Lance heard footsteps behind him. He hoped for it to be him, but couldn't make himself turn around. If it wasn't, Lance would be crushed. His hopes foolhardily continued to rise until heard it. It was like an exhale, the word muttered under his breath. "Lance..."

Lance hiccuped and his shoulders hiked. He got to his unsteady feet and slowly turned to face him. He tried to sniffle the snot back into his nose, to no avail. Keith was drenched. His face was upset, but his body language practically screamed support and love and caring. And Lance ran. He sprinted and jumped into his open arms, full force. Keith stumbled back a step and Lance's head burrowed into the crevice between Keith's shoulder and neck. "Why'd you leave the house?" Keith murmured against Lance's hair, placing affectionate kiss after kiss onto his head.

"Y'weren't there... I called for you," Lance hiccupped, "And you _weren't there_..." Lance's voice cracked and he broke down again. He rubbed his eyes on Keith's shirt to dry them.

"Oh, Lance..." One could hear Keith's heart breaking. "This was just bad timing. I woke up like, half an hour ago, but I couldn't fall back asleep, I was going to tire myself out but then I took a shower because I smelled gross and by the time I got back to the bed, you were gone. And then I went looking for you and you were here."

"That's it?" He asked, his voice was quiet and muffled in Keith's shirt.

"That's all."

"You weren't gonna leave?"

"I'd never leave you."

Keith had never sounded so sure. He kept saying it to himself in his head, _Keith would never leave me._

 

  
Keith shoved their soaked clothes into their washing machine; Keith had changed into a new set a pyjamas, while Lance had settled for boxers and very large t-shirt (Courtesy of Hunk's forgetful brain). Lance had his arms wrapped around Keith's waist, his chin resting on Keith's shoulder, eyes slowly drifting shut. The machine hummed to life and Keith slowly made his way back to the bedroom, Lance following very closely behind, his head still resting on his shoulder. "We should go back to bed." Lance's grip on Keith's waist tightened slightly, Lance doubted he could return to sleep tonight. "Just to the bed, not to sleep, if you don't want to." Lance shook his head. "That's fine."

Keith had turned them around and grabbed some more blankets, warmed up some slightly burnt pasta leftovers and steered the apparent human train back to the bedroom, making small train nosies the entire way. Lance only let Keith go so he could set up the blankets and Netflix on the console. Keith returned almost immediately and pushed himself next to Lance as close as they could.

A upbeat piano melody played over the TV's speakers, eventually a drum was added, then a guitar. Lance watched and ate with enthusiasm, laughing at the show along with Keith.

Eventually, with a warm belly and warmer blankets, Lance slowly drifted off into a peaceful slumber, slumped against Keith's chest.


End file.
